


The Art of Dance

by cyren2132



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Multi, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 12:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyren2132/pseuds/cyren2132
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Ronon, sometimes running isn't enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Winner of Round 13 in 2011's Stargate Last Author Standing challenge on Live Journal. Prompt: Dancing the Night Away.

Ronon had been running for a year when a wraith cornered him.

A small village had offered him shelter the day before. When he arrived they were preparing for a celebration of the year's first harvest. That evening, fresh vegetables, warm bread and ale were plentiful. Laughter and music filled the air, and an admirer's glance was all it took to get the townsfolk dancing.

Melena had always loved to dance. When he first met her on Sateda she had been moving across the crowded dance floor, slipping elegantly between people as if she were the only one there. He was drinking his fill at the bar and keeping his distance from the giant pit of dancers, but he couldn't take his eyes off her.

When they started dating, he indulged her a few times, but he was always stiff and awkward, bumping into everyone around him. He looked a fool and was always an ass afterward. But Melena was kind, and eventually stopped asking to go out. She never went out on her own, either, perhaps guessing that he would be jealous of her spending time with men who were more talented at something than he.

If anything, her willingness to make that sacrifice had made him love her more. It certainly made him want to make her happy.

For her, he sucked in his pride and approached Javick, the task master for a unit Ronon had dealings with. Ronon had seen the man out with his partner. He was just as commanding a presence on the dance floor as he was on the battlefield, and didn't blink or hesitate when Ronon asked him for lessons.

The first few were awful.

"You're thinking too much about it," Javick said.

"Of course I am," Ronon barked, "How else am I going to remember all these moves and crap?! You may be a natural at this, but I'm not."

Javick's eyes hardened for a split a second, and Ronon remembered he was talking to a commanding officer. Javick moved closer, and Ronon expected a reprimand, maybe even a hit, but instead Javick placed a hand on Ronon's shoulder.

"I've seen you fight," he said. "You are a natural warrior. And if you can do that, you can dance."

From that moment, the lessons changed. Javick set them up almost as late-night combat sessions, pulling useful steps here and there and comparing them to similar attacks and defenses. It was a matter of modification, confidence and letting the music be his guide, Javick had said.

Soon Ronon felt confident he could hold his own on the floor. It was then that he set his plan into motion. A nearby club was featuring a local band the same night another was hosting a cage match. Ronon listened to the music, found it suitable and made a date with Melena for "dinner and a fight." He'd surprise her at the new venue, and it would be the night of their lives.

But it never happened.

Word of the Wraith attack came. Sateda was destroyed and Melena with it. She would never get to dance again.

But now Ronon was here. Bringing death and destruction to another village. He wanted to leave, and quickly, but standing between him and the gate was a wraith, grinning at him.

He was tired of running. If the wraith wanted to dance, he would dance.


End file.
